Chapter 169: Aftercare

​I tried to push myself up on my elbows to respond, but the second I put weight on my arms, my muscles buckled.

A sharp, embarrassing whimpering gasp escaped my throat as my hips flared with soreness, and I collapsed right back into the pillows.

​Reid’s arm shot out instantly, catching my shoulder before I could hit the mattress too hard. "Whoa. Don’t move."

​"Fuck..." I groaned into the pillow, my eyelids heavy as I squeezed them shut. "My legs feel like jelly... I can’t even sit up."

​"You shouldn’t be standing up," Reid growled softly, though a smug, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his hand rubbed a gentle, soothing circle into my lower back. "You rode out an Alpha rut and a forced heat in one go, Kain. You’re not moving from this bed anytime soon."

​"I need to eat," I mumbled, my voice raspy as my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud, violent rumble that echoed in the quiet room. "I feel like I haven’t eaten in three years."

​Reid let out a low, genuine laugh, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek. "Message received. Lie back down. I’ll take care of it."

​He swung his long legs off the bed, wincing slightly as his own over-strained muscles protested, but he stood up without hesitation.

I stared at his back, watching the traces of my nail scratches all over his back. I left as much mark as I could on him, just as he did on me. Though, I’d say his marks on my body are much worse.

Reid grabbed his phone from the cluttered floor, ignoring the chaotic wreckage of the bedroom, and immediately pulled up a delivery app.

​"What are you in the mood for?" he asked, tapping the screen as he walked over to the edge of the bed, his bare hip leaning against the mattress. "Heavy protein? Soup? Carbohydrates?"

​"All of it," I gritted out, pulling the blanket up to my chin, my body shivering slightly as the cool air hit my bare shoulders. "Order the entire menu. And get a gallon of water. I’m so dehydrated I can barely swallow."

​"On it," Reid promised, his thumb flying across the screen as he ordered an absurd amount of food from a high-end restaurant down the street, adding express delivery and explicit instructions for the courier to leave it at the penthouse door.

​He set the phone down on the nightstand, then reached over to smooth back the damp hair from my forehead. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the ruthless, primal force he had used on me just hours prior.

​"It’ll be here in twenty minutes," Reid murmured, his thumb lightly tracing my cheekbone. "Rest until then, Cap. I’ll go grab us some water from the kitchen. And then we’ll take a bath."

I nodded weakly, my eyelids feeling impossibly heavy as my face sank back into the soft linen of the pillow. "Bring a whole pitcher... don’t make me wait for twenty minutes."

​"I’m going, I’m going," Reid chuckled softly, pressing one last lingering kiss to my hair before turning to head out toward the kitchen.

​I watched him go, my gaze trailing down his broad, bare shoulders and the long, pale red score marks my nails had ripped down his back. Seeing the physical evidence of my own desperation carved into his skin brought a strange, possessive warmth flooding back into my chest.

He had wrecked my body, covered me in deep purplish bruises and bite marks from my collarbones to my thighs, but I hadn’t let him walk away untouched either. My scent was practically welded into his skin.

​A few minutes later, the faint sound of glass clinking echoed from the hallway, followed by Reid’s heavy, steady footsteps returning to the dark bedroom. He carried a tall glass pitcher filled with ice water and two clean glasses, setting them down carefully on the nightstand.

​He didn’t just hand me a glass—he sat on the edge of the mattress, wrapped an arm under my back, and carefully pulled my limp, aching upper body up against his broad chest.

​"Here," he murmured, holding the cool glass to my dry, cracked lips. "Take slow sips, Cap. Don’t choke yourself."

​I didn’t argue. I leaned into his solid, warm frame and drank greedily, the ice-cold water soothing the burning, raw ache in my throat. Every swallow felt like heaven, cutting through the thick, dry taste of spent pheromones that still lingered on my tongue.

​By the time I finished the second full glass, the loud chime of the penthouse entrance intercom echoed faintly down the corridor.

​"That’s the food," Reid said, setting the empty glass back down. He gave my shoulder a firm, protective squeeze before lowering me back against the pillows. "Stay put. I’ll grab the bags, bring them in here, and then I’ll carry you straight to the tub."

​"I’m holding you to that," I rasped, letting my eyes flutter shut as the heavy scent of frozen pine and sweet orchids wrapped around me once again, warm and entirely safe in the aftermath of our storm.

Reid threw on a pair of sweatpants before slipping out of the bedroom to retrieve the food.

​Left alone in the quiet dusk of the room, I dragged the blanket up higher over my shoulders, wincing at the sharp pull in my core.

My body felt thoroughly tenderized, every muscle throbbed, and the skin around my collarbone where he had repeatedly renewed his mark felt swollen and sensitive. Yet, beneath the absolute physical ruin, a deep, bone-deep satisfaction settled into my marrow.

​Minutes later, Reid returned, balancing a massive bag of hot takeout containers in one hand and a giant fresh pitcher of water in the other. The aroma of roasted meats, rich broth, and warm carbs instantly flooded the bedroom, making my stomach let out another demanding rumble.

​"Food first, bath second," Reid declared, setting the bags on the nightstand. He pulled a wooden bed tray out from the closet, setting it across my lap before unpacking an insane spread—steaming bowls of thick noodle soup, seared steak, garlic rice, and grilled vegetables.

​He sat on the edge of the mattress, handing me a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. "Eat as much as you can, Cap. You need the energy."

​I didn’t need to be told twice. Even with my hands shaking slightly from exhaustion, I practically devoured the food.

The hot broth brought color back to my face, cutting through the hollow fatigue in my chest. Reid ate beside me with equal ravenous speed, his Alpha appetite just as wrecked as mine after a full twenty-four hours of nonstop physical strain.

​By the time the containers were scraped completely clean, the intense, dizzying fog in my brain had finally cleared, replaced by a warm, heavy drowsiness.

​"Alright," Reid said, setting the empty bed tray aside on the floor. He stood up, turning back toward me with that steady, focused look in his grey eyes. "Time for that bath."

​Before I could even attempt to protest or shift my legs, Reid leaned down, slipping one broad arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees.

He lifted me off the bed effortlessly, pulling my sore, bare body flush against his warm chest. A quiet, involuntary gasp escaped my lips as my bruised hips protested the movement, but I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face into his shoulder.

​"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice low and comforting against my temple as he carried me down the short hallway toward the master bathroom.

​He had already drawn a deep, steaming tub, filled with soothing bath salts that helped cut through the heavy lingering scent of spent pheromones. He carefully lowered us both into the deep basin, letting the hot, mineral-rich water swallow us whole.

​A long, shuddering sigh broke from my throat the second the warm water hit my aching muscles. The heat instantly began to work out the knots in my back and thighs, loosening the tight, throbbing pressure around my lower belly.

​Reid sat behind me, pulling my back flush against his chest so I could rest my head comfortably against his shoulder. His large hands moved with slow, deliberate care—grabbing a lathered washcloth and gently washing the sweat, dry slick, and remnants of our chaos from my skin. His fingers traced over every purplish bite mark and deep bruise he had left along my ribs and thighs, his touch holding a quiet, lingering reverence.

​"We have six days before Game 2," I murmured raspy, closing my eyes as the water rocked gently around us.

​"Focus on tonight, Kain," Reid grunted softly, his thumb gently massaging the tense muscles at the base of my neck, taking extreme care around my unmarked nape. "The team knows I had a severe fever. So they won’t suddenly call me to talk about strategy. We’ll get your emergency contraceptives taken care of tomorrow morning, and then we get back to the ice."

​I let out a slow breath, letting my body sink entirely into his heat, anchored by his broad chest behind me and the soothing warmth of the water.

​"Sounds like a plan," I whispered.